‘Well, that’s it. That’s the truth. I was a selfish, immature kid who didn’t want a baby dragging me down.’ Her voice quivered a little. ‘All of it’s true. Everything they would have told you.’
Nick thought his feelings couldn’t be hurt any more than they already had been. He was wrong. Her words were like armour-piercing bullets and they ripped through the shield he thought he’d had firmly in place to protect him.
‘I want your version,’ he persisted, even though his heart was warning him that he’d got the answer he came here for. And yet he wanted to hear her say she was sorry and that she regretted it … Anything to give him a reason to somehow, if not forgive her, then at least understand her motives.
He watched her take a sip from her glass. Her hand wasn’t as steady as it should be.
‘You know what Mum and Dad were like,’ she started, breaking the long silence that had fallen between them. ‘They were strict and unrelenting about appearances and reputations. They went to church and were involved in fellowship groups and Bible studies—the lot. They didn’t know what to do with a rebellious daughter who refused to conform to all the ridiculous, over-the-top values they had, and they blamed me forbecoming an embarrassment to them in front of all their churchy friends. By the time you came along, they’d mellowed. They were outcasts from their church and had stopped going.’
Nick frowned at that. He remembered his parents reading the Bible and always saying grace before dinner. And Easter was always a big deal in their house, but he’d never seen them interact with anyone from a church or even go to one.
‘They were hypocrites—the whole lot of them. They went to church and listened to some minister telling them how they should love their neighbours and take care of the less fortunate, then in the next breath they were standing by watching the same minister beating the devil out of me with a strap—literally. That’s the justification he gave them: the devil had to be beaten out of me.’
Nick stared at her. No. That wasn’t possible. Sure, his parents were strict and they were a bit odd, but he’d always put it down to them being from an older generation. Surely they wouldn’t have let something like that happen to one of their kids?
‘Why do you think I ran away from home? Why do you think I couldn’t go back?’
‘Susie …’
‘You don’t have to believe me, but you said you wanted the truth so I’m giving it to you—warts and all,’ she said and wiped at her eyes quickly.
That action alone took Nick by surprise. He’d never seen Susie cry. Ever.
‘I was living on the streets for a while, doing stuff I never imagined I’d be doing just to eat, then I met a guy. He wasa few years older than me, and he swept me off my feet. His name was Matthew Gosson. He was fresh out of the country and had a job as an apprentice builder. He seemed so reliable and made me feel normal for the first time in forever. He took me in and gave me a home and we were happy. Then I found out I was pregnant, and at the same time Mum and Dad found out where I was and threatened to call the police on Matt for sex with a minor—I hadn’t exactly corrected him when he thought I was older than I was,’ she admitted. ‘So he freaked out and left. Mum and Dad were still in the church at this point—barely. Apparently giving up on a devil-child was a sign of weakness so they were obliged to find me, but when they discovered I was pregnant and wouldn’t get rid of it—you,’ she said, and paused briefly, ‘they said they were done with me for good.’
‘If I’d caused so much trouble, why didn’t you just get rid of—’ Wow, this whole conversation was blowing his mind.Hewas the baby they were talking about getting rid of. The thought that he potentially may not have everbeenwas a lot to take in.
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I know you want me to say it was because, deep down, I wanted to keep you, but the fact is, at that stage, I was probably keeping you just to spite my parents.’ She looked at him then and must have read the gutted expression he was wearing. ‘You were the pawn in this whole sorry saga,’ she said quietly. ‘It wasn’t fair. But whether you want to believe it or not, I was thinking of what was best for you when I left you with your father. The Gossons werea family—a normal, decent kind of family. I knew your dad wouldn’t turn you away and you’d be taken care of.’
‘But then he died,’ Nick said. He hadn’t had time to really process all of that yet. That was for later—right now, wrapping his head around this part was enough.
‘Yes.’ There was sadness in her eyes as she answered, but not sorrow—not like she’d lost the love of her life. Not like when she’d been grieving Gino.
‘But you came back to take me to Mum— to your parents,’ he corrected quickly. ‘After everything they’d done to you, you decided to leave me there?’
‘By then they were out of that crazy church. I didn’t have any other choice. I’d planned on telling Gino about you once I felt like we were in a good place, but then … he …’ She stopped and let out a sharp sigh. ‘I had my own issues. Looking back, I think I knew he’d throw me away if he found out about you, and I was so emotionally screwed up at the time—so desperate to hold on to the relationship—that I couldn’t risk jeopardising it.’
She paused then chewed her lip uncertainly, holding his gaze with an openness he’d not experienced from her before. ‘I am truly sorry for the way everything happened. Our life wasn’t …’ She searched his eyes for a moment as though trying to figure out how to put whatever it was she was attempting to say into words. ‘There were often things going on around us … I’m not proud of it, but it was what it was. There were drugs and too much alcohol, and in those early days the parties were out of control—money was no object to the people we did business with. It was no place for a child.’
‘It still doesn’t excuse why you didn’t tell me later. You’ve had thirty-eight years.’
‘There didn’t seem much point. Why upset the applecart?’
‘Because I had a right to know!’ he said, raising his voice again. Christ, why couldn’t she understand what a huge deal this was to him?
‘It wouldn’t have changed anything.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I do. For years I’ve been trying to get you set up in business—prepare you for taking over the company—and you’ve wanted nothing to do with it. Would being the woman who gave birth to you instead of being your sister have made any difference?’
‘No. But it’s got nothing to do with the business. I had a right to know who you really were.’
‘There was nothing to gain by telling you I was your mother because I wasn’t. I gave birth to you. I didn’t raise you. Mum and Dad did that. For all their faults, they at least kept their word and raised you as their own. I was barely a sister to you, let alone a mother.’
Some of his initial anger seemed to have faded since they started talking, but the lack of sleep and exhaustion was finally kicking in, draining him of the last of his energy.
‘I’ll show you to a room where you can sleep. After you’ve rested, we can talk some more if you like.’
He was dead on his feet and couldn’t be bothered to argue. He’d come to hear the truth and he’d got it—regardless of how empty it had been. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, maybe some sort of closure? But at the moment,he had nothing. He still felt angry and betrayed and somewhat stupid that he hadn’t figured any of it out for himself. He hoped that things might make more sense after a sleep, because right now, nothing did.
His whole life felt like it belonged to someone else.
